I woke up earlier than usual the next morning, though I wasn't sure if it was because of the unfamiliar bed or the unfamiliar life I had suddenly found myself in.
For a few seconds, I just lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to remember where I was. Then everything came rushing back. Slowly I pushed the covers aside and sat up, my fingers tightening slightly against the soft bedsheet. Even the fabric felt too expensive, too soft, like something I wasn't supposed to get used to, knowing well it's just for a short period of time.
A gentle knock sounded on the door.
"Come in," I answered.
The door opened and a young maid stepped in, carrying a carefully covered garment bag.
"Good morning, ma'am," she said politely. "Mr. Richie asked me to bring this for you."
